


slipping through sand

by MajesticAnna



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Beach Volleyball, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Feelings, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Pro Volleyball Player Hinata Shouyou, before he knows it he's, kageyama is a journalist traveling to rio to interview hinata
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajesticAnna/pseuds/MajesticAnna
Summary: He looks down at the badge hanging from his neck, denoting his position as a journalist forSports!! Japan. It is both a soothing balm and irritant at his own failures.Ukai had given him the task of traveling to Rio to interview Ninja Shouyou, a Japanese-Brazilian athlete who was amazing the world of beach volleyball. Only 22, he was a burning bright supernova of skill, making his average height work to his advantage.They called him a star, shooting into the atmosphere at a brilliant height. And Kageyama wants more than anything to be far away from his overwhelming light.⸻Kageyama meets Hinata on the beaches of Brazil. Everything changes from there.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 21
Kudos: 121
Collections: Kagehina Exchange





	slipping through sand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jollyrancher1114](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jollyrancher1114/gifts).



> For the prompt: "Kageyama is a well known journalist and his latest assignment by Ukai is to travel to Brazil and interview their newest pro athlete, somebody called Ninja Shoyo."
> 
> The rest of the prompt is omitted for *spoilers*; giftee, I hope this makes you happy!

_Flight A342 is now preparing to land in Rio de Janeiro. Thank you for choosing High Quality Airlines._

Kageyama pulls the silk eye cover off his eyes and blinks at the sudden entrance of light. He sighs, rolling his neck and taking off the pillow settled around it. Airplane travel should never exceed the single digits of hours and somehow Kageyama agreed to almost two days of travel.

He looks out the airplane window as they circle to land, the gleaming oceans and bright beaches Rio is famous for, the tiny dots of human bodies who together populate the sand with a mass of life.

Kaeyama’s stomach dips, and it has little to do with the descent of the plane.

He looks down at the badge hanging from his neck, denoting his position as a journalist for _Sports!! Japan_. It is both a soothing balm and irritant at his own failures.

Ukai had given him the task of traveling to Rio to interview Ninja Shouyou, a Japanese-Brazilian athlete who was amazing the world of beach volleyball. Only 22, he was a burning bright supernova of skill, making his average height work to his advantage.

They called him a star, shooting into the atmosphere at a brilliant height. And Kageyama wants more than anything to be far away from his overwhelming light.

When Ukai had given him the project, Kageyama had outright refused. But then his boss said the words that have been echoing in his head since then:

_Kageyama, you can’t avoid everything that reminds you of your past. At some point, you’ll have to work through it. Or at least acknowledge it._

Ukai’s advice struck him. But he was wrong, Kageyama still loves volleyball, and he interacts with it. He practices with municipal teams and keeps up a steady exercise regime. He just can’t interview newer or rising stars, those that remind him of what he could have been.

He’s doing just fine.

Kageyama is not looking forward to interviewing Ninja Shouyou. Though they are both members of two different mediums of the same sport, younger athletes tended to either be too sweet or too stuck up, neither of which Kageyama was particularly good with.

Well, to be quite honest, he wasn’t too good with most people. But being able to plan out his words, like he’s done in his volleyball journal since he was a kid, it makes communicating easier for him.

So the interview, then. The actual talking bit with a professional athlete. Kageyama sighs to himself. At least he could blame things on translation issues if he fucked up too much.

Kageyama rubs his eyes. He’s too sleep deprived to deal with any traumas at the moment, so he slides it off his mind for now. All he wants right now is to be passed out in a soft bed.

When they finally land and deboard the plane, Kageyama takes the quickest path to get to his accommodations. He takes a bus, gets his roomkey from the front desk, and slogs his way with his luggage to his hotel room. When he gets there, he shoves his bags in the closet and throws his body on the bed.

Within minutes, he is fast asleep.

* * *

Kageyama blinks into awareness, the room bathed in the deep blue of a night sky. He considers rolling over and falling asleep again but after a few minutes of flopping around, his jetlagged brain decides it’s time to be awake.

Plus, he is still grimy from being confined in a metal container flying through the sky for an innumerable number of hours. He needs a shower.

He scooches off the bed and goes to do just that. The water heats up quickly and the pressure is nice. When he finally gets under the spray, he washes his skin, the warm water relaxes his muscles, slowly shedding his layers of grime to become a person again.

After drying off, Kageyama slings a towel around his waist. He walks to the tiny table in the hotel room and pulls up his phone to mindlessly search the internet.

He considers his state again but doesn’t think he will be able to sleep just yet.

An idea pops into his head. Kageyama retrieves his backpack and unzips it, searching for his folder. He pulls it out, and opens it across his legs to sift through the contents.

In a few seconds, he finds what he is looking for: a packet of printed information for his research on the beach scene in Rio.

There’s beach after beach with opportunities to play, in day or night time. Kageyama looks through his options and picks the closest one. He orders an Uber and watches the little car make its way towards him. In the meantime, he changes into shorts and a t-shirt.

It’s a weeknight, so the car arrives quickly. Luckily, Kageyama doesn’t have to worry about the address as the app provides the directions to the location.

Kageyama shifts in his seat, tapping his leg. Anticipation builds in his stomach with a clenching of his muscles. Volleyball was a rush which he didn’t get to give as much attention to nowadays. Now he gets to dedicate his whole trip to the volleyball world.

It fills him with anxiety and delight in equal amounts.

His heart fills with longing as he sees the beach his driver leaves him at. He exits the car, thanking the driver with his minimal conversational skills in Portuguese, and turns toward the sea.

The beach is filled with nets, pairs and groups of people populating the courts. Kageyama removes his sandals and takes his steps onto the sand.

Flip flops in hand, he toes his feet through the texture of the grains. He tests their weight and realizes how much stamina lifting his body into flight would take out of him.

The excitement increases in the heavy thud of his heartbeat.

He watches the pairs and groups playing volleyball, walking through the sand and making sure to avoid the court lines. There’s old and young people, apparent athletes and those just playing for fun, and in each game, there’s a sense of fluid laughter in their play.

No matter the level of competition, they’re enjoying volleyball, in their receives, sets, and hits.

“Got it!”

Kageyama turns towards the English speaker who saves the ball at the last second. The girl nods in apology before running to return to the rally.

Kageyama blinks. Then, for some reason, he smiles.

He walks across the sand, towards a group of more seasoned pairs of teams. They’re focused, and dressed in beach gear, with tight athletic wear and sunglasses to guard against debris. Though, these experienced players seem to be having as much fun—if not more—in their game.

His eye is caught by a shorter, muscular man with a shock of bright orange hair. Like the other locals, his visible skin is darker, his arms and legs covered in long gear that latches onto his skin, outlining his muscles in an appreciative silhouette.

Kageyama’s mouth dries up.

The man speaks in rapid-fire Portguese with his teammate, and Kageyama finds himself watching his mouth, the flip of his tongue and movement of his lips. Then, he flashes a wide smile and Kageyama almost trips face-first into the sand.

He regains his balance and realizes a small smattering of people have gathered to watch the game.

His brow furrows. Why weren’t they all playing, or rather, what made this game so important? If it’s because of the attractive player, then Kageyama understands, but for some reason, Kageyama doesn’t think that’s all it is.

The other team, filled out with two tall players with dark hair, says something to the other team, and the man nods, before taking his position. All at once, the humor leaves him to be replaced with cold concentration.

Kageyama shivers.

The serve starts, and the man receives, in a perfect arc towards his partner. Kageyama barely has time to blink at his shock when the set goes up and the man jumps.

He soars, high into the skies, and slams the ball into the sand.

Kageyama’s breath catches.

The crowd is shouting but Kageyama can’t hear them. He’s too focused on the man landing and smacking his teammate’s hands, like his day-to-day is filled with awe-inspiring jumps that barely takes any focused thought.

And perhaps it is ingrained into his body, the man obviously at home on the sand. Rally after rally, serve to receive to set to spike, the man continues to impress Kageyama with his skill. He dives for receives that shouldn’t be able to be saved, he sets easily in the light breeze, and he jumps. He jumps and jumps and jumps, and his legs should be sore by now but he keeps going.

After the last set is over, with a win for the man and his teammate, Kageyama is itching to talk to him. He grips his flip flops in hand and inhales deeply.

Kageyama marches across the sand, barely stumbling in his mission, and stares at the man with a focused intensity that would make anyone stutter. He turns to Kaeyama with wide eyes and a smile on his lips, but Kageyama barely thinks as he bows low and shouts: “Please let me set to you!”

It’s not until he shouts the words does he realize that he spoke Japanese. Not even English, and nowhere near Portuguese.

Kageyama straightens up and tries to figure out the words in English. Then he catches the expression of the man before him; his eyes are wide, eyebrows raised, and he bursts into laughter.

“Yeah! Sure!” he says, in clear Japanese.

Kageyama blinks. So he has happened upon the only Japanese speaker on the beach. Cool.

It’s then that he realizes the strangers staring at him. They speak in confused murmurs and light snickers. Kageyama shakes his head, willing the blush away.

The man speaks in Portuguese again, talking with the other three players. One of them leaves, and then his former teammate trades with the other, the previous teammate going to the other side of the court.

The man turns to him and flashes him a bright smile again. Kageyama feels a bit dizzy from standing in his gaze.

“I’m Hinata Shouyou, you can call me Hinata or Shouyou, either one works for me.”

“Hinata,” Kageyama says, brain too fuzzy to register the given name. It gives him a sense of familiarity in this country of fast languages and expressive touch.

“And yours?” Hinata’s eyes are alight with humor.

“Kageyama Tobio,” Kageyama says.

“Kageyama, then.” He examines Kageyama with a critical eye. “Have you ever played on the beach?”

Kageyama shakes his head, shuffling his feet in the sand. “No.” He moves the grains between his toes, sensing their grip and weight when he slides through it. He recalibrates with each drag of his foot through the sand. “I’ll get used to it.”

Hinata laughs, amused. He’s not brushing Kageyama’s words off, though. “This should be interesting.”

They set up in the sand and settle in their stances. Kageyama watches how Hinata settles his weight and he imitates. He wonders how he will get lift off the terrain.

The serve goes up, and Hinata cleanly receives. The ball imitates the perfect arcs from earlier, positioned for Kageyama to set up.

He licks his lips. He sets.

The ball goes directly where Kageyama wants, to time with Hinata’s hit and slam of the ball into the other end of the court.

“Holy shit!”

Hinata whips his head towards Kageyama. “You never said your sets were this beautiful!”

“I never said I didn’t play volleyball,” Kageyama says. He can’t quite keep the smugness out of his voice. “Just never on the sand.”

Hinata’s eyes glimmer with mirth. “Let’s see how well you can adapt.”

The set continues, with Kageyama trying his best to execute his indoor skills with beach. It goes slightly better and worse than he expects. His skills are still there, but it’s not the perfection he’s used to. He stumbles when making it to certain receives, and he’s not good about analyzing how the wind will change at the last second. Alternatively, he surprises Hinata with a clean spike down the line of the court. Victory is short-lived when Kageyama tips the ball over and gets called out on the technicality, which isn’t allowed in beach. Hinata shows him how he can jab it with his fingertips.

Kageyama clenches his fist, grains of sand settling in the lines of his palm. He hasn’t had a challenge in volleyball in a long time, something completely outside of his realm, where he’s not reminded of his failures, only the ever present now and waiting for the next moment to come. To get the ball to fall on the other end of the court.

He wonders when indoor volleyball became such a drain on his skills instead of encouraging them. It’s nothing like the challenge and spirit of playing on the beach.

And he syncs well, with the movements Hinata makes. Though it is their first time playing together, Kageyama matches Hinata’s jump height, his reach, and hits his own sets. He watches as Hinata pulls the other team into hitting a ball in a cross, and Kageyama helps him with the block. They speak through their actions, through their plans for the next rally. And they respond unasked questions, just with pure adrenaline.

The first set ends with their win, and Kageyama blushes as Hinata smacks his hands in victory. They play another, which they lose, and one where they lose, again.

Finally, they shake hands with the other team, and call it a night. Hinata speaks with the other team for a little bit while Kageyama stands off to the side.

He slowly comes down from his high, realizing he had basically forced his way into playing with high-level players. It’s a good thing Kageyama held his own, but he still didn’t adjust to the sand completely. At least he didn’t make too much of a fool of himself—

“I wish we could’ve played all night!”

Kageyama turns toward Hinata, who is speaking Japanese to him. It’s now that Kageyama can detect a slight accent, where Hinata rolls certain sounds together and enunciates others in an almost dance of language, like he knows it intimately and makes it work for him.

Kageyama wonders where this intriguing man came from.

“I wish we could have played longer, too,” Kageyama says. It’s then that Kageyama’s stomach chooses to growl loudly.

Hinata laughs. “Do you want to get some food? I haven’t eaten yet, and if I’m correct, you don’t speak Portuguese. I could order for you!”

Kageyama stares, and then sighs. He’s jetlagged and tired. He wants to go back to his hotel.

But he is also hungry. For the food or for more time with Hinata, he’s not sure.

* * *

Hinata takes him to a healthy restaurant serving Brazilian cuisine, with many foods Kageyama hasn’t tried before. There’s delicious meats and sauteed vegetables, each steaming with delicious spices and flavors; Kageyama asks Hinata to order for him as everything sounds good—his mouth waters when the food is delivered to them.

Hinata sips his water and slams it back down. “Kageyama, you were amazing! I’ve never seen a newbie do that well in the sand before!”

“I’m not a newbie,” Kageyama says, eyebrows raised.

Hinata waves him away with a hand. “New to the sand.”

Kageyama grumbles, forking some meat into his mouth. He has to admit his faults, even though he doesn’t want to.

“You’re amazing, on a professional level, even,” Hinata says, and a drop of fear grows in Kageyama’s stomach, dreading the question: “Do you play for a league in Japan?”

Kageyama sighs, willing himself to ease the tension attempting to sprout in his body. It is only a question to be expected. “No.”

“Oh!” Maybe Hinata senses the danger zone as he redirects his line of questioning. “How long have you played volleyball?”

“Since I was in primary school.” Easier territory, Kageyama thinks, regrounding himself.

“That long!” Hinata laughs. His eyes glimmer with a spark of admiration, and a hint of determined competition. “I guess it’s not surprising seeing the ball in your hands. It’s like an extension of your limbs, even when you were adjusting to the terrain.” His words are colored with excitement. “Your serves were amazing, too! I would’ve had a hard time picking them up.”

Kageyama tries not to preen under the praise but it does feel nice to be acknowledged this way. Especially from a person as vibrant and genuine as Hinata. Kageyama wants to return the compliment but he’s not too good at them. He tries, though.

“You’re skilled,” he says.

Hinata raises his eyebrows. Then he breaks out into laughter, chuckling through his response: “Thanks!”

“Uh, yeah.”

They discuss their game among the delicious smells of their food, energy building between them. Kageyama rarely gets along with someone this well; it’s a foreign but nice feeling. Even with his boss, Ukai, they didn’t have this kind of banter. Hinata keeps the conversation going when it lulls with questions about Kageyama, which he answers. Eventually, it draws later and Kageyama feels weariness drenching his bones.

“We should meet again,” Hinata says, outside the restaurant, after they pay their bill.

Kageyama blushes, and he curses his mind for wandering in other directions at the layered meaning. He gives Hinata his Whatsapp information and stifles the warmth in his stomach of having his contact information.

They depart with farewells and suggestions of times to play again. Kageyama says he will be busy with work for a few days but that he will message when he’s free.

He arrives at his hotel and he sees that Hinata has sent him a message.

It’s a location near where they were tonight, apparently where Hinata trains, and says to save the information for later use. It’s then that Kageyama clicks on his profile picture. Hinata is on the beach with a volleyball in the crook of his arm, tanned muscles and bright smile on display.

Kageyama’s stomach flips. He wants to see more pictures of him, if he can.

He’s feeling brave with the exhaustion, so he types out a message.

> Do you have social media?

With a _ping!_ , he gets a response.

> I do ;) This is me:

> @ninjashouyou

Kageyama’s blinks, his eyes widening. He reads the handle, once, twice, three times. He stares, shakes his head, and reads it again.

Ninja Shouyou.

Honestly, Kageyama wonders why it took him so long to figure it out, as he types out the username in his search bar. Beach volleyball, Brazilian and Japanese, the crowd of people watching his games…

Kageyama withers in embarrassment. It doesn’t stop him from scrolling through Hinata’s Instagram.

After skimming through an overwhelming scenery of tan muscles and tournament wins and beautiful beaches, Kageyama shoves his face into his pillow. He will force himself to sleep if he has to.

His dreams are decidedly not professional, for someone who is going to interview a pro athlete in a matter of days.

* * *

Kageyama spends the next few days researching the beach scene in Rio, the culture surrounding volleyball and the appreciation for the sport. He finds a lot of articles in English so he exercises his brain through reading them; his English is decent but having to translate his notes back and forth with Japanese and English stretched his brain cells on the longer days of his writing.

He finds the beach scene fascinating, reading through articles, using the hotel to print his favorites, and fully immersing himself in the knowledge. At home in Japan, volleyball is gaining popularity, but not as much as a country that’s known for its skill in the sport on the indoor and beach side.

There’s even a specific interest in beach, with the miles of sand encouraging locals to play or watch teams take on the challenge. Local tournaments all the way up to international, being in Brazil has ample opportunity to challenge growth on the sand.

Kageyama finds himself taking an interest in it, and researching Ninja Shouyou himself. He wonders how being from Japanese parents and living in Brazil has shaped Hinata in his life and career.

Kageyama jots down questions, some for his article, and some for his own personal desire to speak with Hinata. It’s a passion that hasn’t coursed through him since he last played indoor in high school. Fascination pours into him and his research, and anticipation builds in his blood as the date for his interview draws closer.

Hinata’s PR agent sets them up at a small cafe just off one of the local areas of Rio. It’s a hidden cafe tucked into the crook of a street corner and it has a nice outdoor view of the city; vendors selling food and boisterous people walking about their way of life.

Kageyama sits with his tea and settles into people watching. Though he doesn’t particularly like interacting with crowds, he does like to imagine little stories about those who make their way through the streets. It makes his creative energy stir within his fingers, itching to write down notes for lines he may write in his article.

“Sorry for being late!”

And then Kageyama’s latest study subject comes into view, Hinata rushing through the cafe after the waiter points to Kageyama’s table. He sits down with a huff, opposite Kageyama, and Kageyama finds himself smirking into his tea. It’s then that Hinata looks at him and does a double-take.

“Kageyama!?”

Kageyama snickers. “Hinata.”

“I didn’t know you were interviewing me.” Hinata narrows his eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Ninja Shouyou.” Kageyama tilts his head with a haughty air. “Did you say anything to me?”

Hinata’s mouth pulls into a sheepish grimace. “Well.” He rubs his arm. “I thought you didn’t know! Or didn’t care.” He looks down. “It’s been a while since I’ve been able to talk to someone who’s passionate about volleyball and doesn’t get caught up in who I am.”

Kageyama rolls his eyes. “And sending me your account was going to hide that from me?”

Hinata laughs. “You were going to find out at some point. And maybe I wanted to figure out who you were, too.” He laughs again. “Though an account with “Kageyama Tobio” as a heading and no pictures didn’t help me.

Kageyama blushes. “I don’t use it much.”

“Then why did you ask for mine?”

“Let’s start with the interview.”

“Okay,” Hinata says, but his eyes shine with mirth so Kageyama knows his redirection wasn’t subtle.

Kageyama straightens his list of questions. He pulls out a recorder so he can transcribe later, and a notepad for notes or thoughts he has during it.

“When did you fall in love with volleyball?” Kageyama says, as his opener.

Hinata blinks. “You’re starting with that?”

Kageyama shrugs. “I’m curious.”

Hinata exhales, a long drawn-out sound. “I’ve always been surrounded by volleyball. My parents took me to the beach as a kid to try and teach me Portuguese outside of the Japanese we spoke at home. There were people up and down the beach, in the water, lying on the sand, but I caught sight of a game with a ball being tossed back and forth, and made my way over.” Hinata laughs. “I remember face-planting a few times, and my mom would pull me up from the ground when I did. When we got to the courts, there were two teams of young, probably high school kids. But then they played, and I couldn’t take my eyes off them.”

Hinata’s eyes glimmered with reminiscence. “Watching them launch themselves into height against the sand I stumbled on, I wanted to have that strength more than anything.

Hinata sips the water Kageyama had ordered for him. “I asked my mom to let me join a youth league, and after a few years of begging and training in our garden, she let me.”

“Were you good?” Kageyama asks.

“Not at all,” Hinata says, chuckling. “I was obsessed with learning to jump, that it wasn’t until my coach took me to see a professional game that I realized… there’s so much more to it.”

Kageyama nods, penciling down a few notes. “Did you find your own playstyle because of it?”

“Yeah,” Hinata smiles, wide. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not too tall. When I played my first tournament, we lost badly to a team with two giant and talented players. But when I saw the professional game, I realized, if I had technique, I could dive and reach the ball at the last second. If I could set, then my teammate had more freedom to direct their spike.

“There’s only two people on the court, only yourself and your partner to rely on. If I could learn everything, I could be strong.”

“Do you have a long-term partner?” Kageyama asks the question without thinking too much on it.

“I’ve had partners in the past,” Hinata says, his mouth turning into something wry. “My favorite partner retired to get a job where he could spend time with his growing family. And all of my previous teammates were good; I enjoyed playing with them. But, I’m still waiting for someone, I think. Someone who, I don’t know.” Hinata meets his gaze, his eyes sharp and pointed. “Someone who I just get.”

“I see,” Kageyama says. HIs mind drifts to his own experiences with volleyball. Of a team with six players and him at the head, who didn’t want to listen or talk outside of the court. Where they didn’t listen to each other, anyways.

“Volleyball is all about connection,” Hinata says, turning his head to the city streets. “Without good chemistry, especially in a match of only two players, you’ll fall apart.”

Kageyama clears his throat. “Do you think you’ll find the perfect partner?”

Hinata’s expression becomes more clouded, hiding his meaning as he gives his answer: “I have a feeling it won’t take me too much longer.”

Kageyama’s eyes widen. “Did someone capture you attention—”

“Sorry, Kageyama, if you want to know more, you’ll have to schedule another interview.” Hinata wipes his expression back into focus, his mouth set in a coy line. Kageyama chooses not to press.

They continue with Kageyama’s questions, and fall into an easy conversation. Kageyama finds himself relaxing around Hinata; he lets the calm breeze tickle his face as he writes down his notes.

Before long, Hinata is frowning as he checks his phone.

“I have to be at the beach soon,” Hinata stands up from his chair, and he sighs, as if avoiding leaving as much as Kageyama wants him to stay.

Kageyama shakes his head to rid himself of the projection of his own feelings. This was a business meeting and they had extended past their allotted time slot. It was time to go back to the reality set before them.

“Thanks for meeting with me,” Kageyama says. He organizes his own notes and slides them into his bag.

“Do you want to come with me?” Hinata asks. He traces a pattern against the condensation pooling on the table.

Kageyama’s mouth wants to accompany him but: “I have to go start typing this up.” He flashes him a small upward tilt of his lips. “Maybe another time?”

Hinata smiles. “Sounds like a plan.” As Hinata leaves him, Kageyama ponders what it means to have a connection in volleyball with your partner. The only time he’s been that in sync was his first night in Rio.

He shakes his head. Better to refocus than to get caught in daydreams.

* * *

Kageyama’s article is typed out, sent to his editor, and pending edits. His flights back to Japan are in order, and he only has a few days remaining in Rio.

With his work done, Kageyama finds himself finally taking Hinata up on his offer to play together again.

The two of them set the ball back and forth. It’s mid afternoon, the sand a calm warmth against his feet, and Kageyama’s heart sinks thinking about how much he’ll miss it. There’s a cushioning to the sediment, one that takes energy to move in but proves satisfactory when he finally can execute his skills on it.

The wind tries to push the ball but Hinata and Kageyama adjust accordingly, calmly setting the ball from one to the other. They speak with their bodies, catching the ball even when it moves off-course.

Kageyama frowns. He will miss this ease. He’s never been able to adjust to another playstyle fast, but Hinata makes it so simple. It doesn’t take him worrying over matching the other; they fit together, seamlessly.

He’s lost in his thoughts when Hinata breaks their silence.

“How did your article end up?”

“Oh. Good.” Kageyama tries to figure out something else to say about it. “I included the interview with research into the beach volleyball scene in Rio.”

“Oh.” Hinata’s voice is slightly affected, like he’s thinking hard. “Are you interested in beach?”

“Yeah,” Kageyama says. “It’s…” _Amazing. Intriguing. Inspiring._ “...cool.”

“Just ‘cool’, huh?” Hinata snickers. He captures the ball from the air instead of setting it back to Kageyama. “Have you thought of learning more about it?”

“How?” Kageyama scrunches his brows. “I leave in a few days and Japan isn’t exactly popular for it.”

“What if you stayed longer?” Hinata says. He shifts his weight in the sand, looking away from Kageyama. “You could write a follow-up about beach, maybe drum up interest with your readers.”

Kageyama considers this. He would get to stay longer, figure out more about the sport, and maybe, get to spend his days playing with Hinata. “That’s not a bad idea.”

Hinata snaps his head up, teeth gleaming wide. “Then, ask your boss!”

Kageyama pulls out his phone, and with a growing excitement, types out an email; Ukai probably wouldn’t see it until the morning, but Kageyama wanted the words to be out there now, so he could stay in Brazil just a little bit longer.

Hinata looks over his shoulder and offers help with phrasing, and then, he sends it.

With the message out of his hand, Kageyama is overwhelmed with relief he didn’t realize was weighing down on him.

“Let’s go! I’ll call some people to play with.” Hinata grabs his hand and pulls him toward the courts, further down the beach.

Kageyama memorizes the impression of his hand long after he lets go.

* * *

With each passing day, Kageyama falls more and more in love with beach volleyball.

It starts simple, with meeting with Hinata to play, and then Kageyama is joining his training sessions. They build their banter and jokes, and start taking on even more challenging teams. Then he’s hanging out with Hinata outside of practices, to talk at his apartment or to walk down the streets and find somewhere to eat.

Kageyama forces down any growing feelings that struggle for purchase when Hinata’s hand brushes his own. Or when Hinata’s dimples appear when he laughs at Kageyama’s jokes. Or when he does anything, really.

Hinata is a gorgeous person, Kageyama knows this. And he probably has many others vying for his affection. It made little sense for Kageyama to disturb the ease of their relationship with his feelings. He’d be going back to Japan soon enough and this would be nothing more than a memory.

He ignores how he wishes for there to be another way to make it work.

Hinata introduces him to other beach volleyball players and Kageyama adds their words to his expanding folder of research; they all seem to think of Hinata favorably, who acts as translator. Kageyama worries he’s dominating Hinata’s time, but he always waves him off when he brings it up.

They are discussing their most favorite past games when Hinata grows quiet. He sighs, and flicks his water glass with a small _plink_. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve known you forever.”

Kageyama murmurs his agreement, and they settle into a quiet. He doesn’t want to admit what he knows to be true:

Some days, Kageyama thinks he’s living in a dream, far happier than he’s been in a long time. He’s all too worried for when he wakes up.

* * *

A deep fear settles in his body, one he’s not sure where it originates. He’s worried though, when his daydreams while writing turn towards beach instead of indoor, when he starts thinking of the sound of crashing waves as a comfort rather than a foreign noise.

The newness of the sport should’ve worn off by now, but Kageyama looks up the rules and tournament schedule in his free time. He watches YouTube videos of past games and instructional videos with suggestions of how to refine his technique.

Kageyama convinces himself it means nothing.

He texts Ukai updates about his status in his research, which his boss always responds to dryly. Ukai hadn’t seemed really surprised when Kageyama asked to stay longer, saying it became “apparent” when he read Kageyama’s first article about Hinata.

But soon, Kageyama draws closer to his final departure date. He’s run out of excuses and a reason to stay, to stay in Brazil. Looking over his suitcase, half unpacked and half packed, his mouth twitches into a frown.

His mind is furiously going through options for how to ask for more time when he gets a call from Ukai. It’s early in Japan, so Kageyama wonders why he’s up and working. But Kageyama prepares himself and answers.

Kageyama inhales. “Ukai-san, what if I wrote about—”

“Why don’t you stay, Kageyama?”

Kageyama blinks. “What?”

Ukai sighs and Kageyama can hear the weariness come through the line. “You love it there. You don’t hate this job, but I can see it, Kageyama. In the way you write about beach, you want to be there.”

Kageyama rushes to deflect: “You can’t assume—”

“Can you tell me I’m wrong?”

Silence echoes in Kageyama’s hotel room.

“I know you wanted to join the V-league one day,” Ukai says, breaking the tension with a sharp knife. “But maybe life is taking you elsewhere.”

Kageyama voices the fear he doesn’t have the words to describe. “What if I’m giving up? On my future?”

“That’s not it, Kageyama,” Ukai says. The static thrums in Kageyama’s ears. “Beach volleyball just became more important to you.

“Isn’t that a bad thing?” “Do you think it is?”

“No,” he says. “I don’t.”

The silence stretches between them. Finally, Kageyama says, “okay.”

“You should talk to him.” Kageyama can hear the warmth in Ukai’s voice.

“Who?”

“Hinata. Ninja Shouyou.” Ukai chuckles, the breathy sounds coming through the phone. “You talk about him so much it’s like I know him.”

Kageyama blushes but chooses to ignore it, shaking his head. “What would we talk about?”

“Well,” Ukai’s voice turns mysterious. “Maybe he can listen to you sort it all out.”

Kageyama nods, even though Ukai can’t hear him. “Okay. I’ll—I’ll do it.”

He ends the call and the breadth of the nature of the conversation knocks the energy out of him. Still, he needs to be with Hinata, to figure out what to do. He takes his phone and fires off a text.

Now, to wait.

* * *

Kageyama arrives at Hinata’s apartment. It’s a mid-range place, close to the beach but not too expensive, and Kageyama finds he knows his neighborhood better than his own in Japan, having walked around the area with Hinata a number of times.

Hinata opens the door right after Kageyama knocks, as if he’s been waiting since Kageyama sent him the message.

“Are you okay?” Hinata asks. His lips pull forward to form a cute pout but Kageyama pushes the thought aside.

Kageyama nods, and offers a weak smile. He enters the apartment and walks into the living room; he sits heavily on Hinata’s couch. Hinata settles next to him, eyes wary but not pushing him to speak.

In that small gesture, Kageyama’s heart thumps painfully.

After a few moments, Kageyama says: “I wanted to play volleyball for Japan. Indoor.” He shrugs his shoulders, to rid them of the tension. “For most of my life, I dreamed of having a perfect, six-player team that took on the Olympics together.”

Hinata frowns, and tilts his head to the side. “What happened? You’re good enough to play professionally”

“I played in high school, but no teams or even individual players fit with me, no matter how hard I tried,” Kageyama says. He grips his arm. “People said I demanded too much out of them, that I was a King who threatened them to be better.”

“I didn’t know how to work well with others,” Kageyama says, because he knows he has flaws. “So after I didn’t get scouted, I took a temp job at a magazine company; the head of my department liked my work so he eventually promoted me.” He looks away, lost in thought.

“I always thought volleyball would be waiting for me.” He turns to Hinata. “Now… it’s different.”

“Different?” Hinata’s eyes search him, and Kageyama spots a tremulous hint of hope in them.

“I think I want to play beach volleyball.” Kageyama’s mouth turns dry. “I think I want to stay.”

The words take a moment to sink in. Then, Hinata’s whole body lights up, releasing a breath and smiling wide. “You can, if that’s what you want.”

“There’s a lot of logistics,” Kageyama says. “Moving overseas, I have money saved but—”

“I’ll help you!” Hinata’s gaze turns determined. “I’ll teach you Portuguese and tell you about tournaments so you can get sponsorships, I’ll even help you find a place—”

“Will you be my partner?” Kageyama asks. Because this is an important question. He doesn’t want to do this without him. If Hinata says no, he’ll still want to play beach volleyball but it would make it—

“Of course.” Hinata’s mouth twitches, and a bright grin stretches across his lips. Like Kageyama has made his day simply by asking those words. “That’s a given.” He grabs Kageyama’s hands and Kageyama tries not to shiver. “Your tosses are the best, I won’t let anyone else have them.”

And with that, Kageyama thinks, the world turns a few notches brighter. For once, a soft smile echoes on his own lips. He squeezes Hinata’s hands and like dumb idiots, they continue to stare and smile at each other in quiet elation.

* * *

They continue to train together, even more rigorous than before, and Kageyama gets a visa to work in Brazil. Now that the decision has been made, he feels more free, like each step of his body is inflated with helium. He could reach the skies while floating on his happiness.

In their first tournament as a pair, Hinata and Kageyama make a good impression on sponsorships, but none of them stick. Kageyama has a part time job writing for _Sports!! Japan_ , thanks to Ukai, but he wants to play beach full time in the future. Kageyama often catches Hinata muttering into his phone about his management decisions or what steps to take next.

Kageyama finds his heart growing for him every day.

It’s on a Monday when Hinata drags Kageyama from his apartment—which Kageyama was still unpacking boxes in—and shoves him into a car.

“Hinata?” Kageyama says. If he’s going to be kidnapped, he’d like to know as much as possible about where Hinata planned to take him.

“We’re going to a business meeting,” Hinata says. Then he flashes him a smirk, so Kageyama knows he’s in deep trouble.

The car takes them to a villa on a private beach. The house is classy and deep with wealth, but not showy about it. Cream walls and an open floor plan have a clear view of the beach it's settled on. Kageyama finds himself walking around in awe.

Whoever lives here has money.

Movement guides his eyes and Kageyama sees a man walking to them. Hinata straightens up and Kageyama does the same.

“This is Kodzuken,” Hinata says. Kodzuken nods with a small smile, and his black hair with yellow ends bobs in it’s little bun.

“Kozume is fine. It’s nice to meet you, Kageyama. Hinata has told me a lot about you.” His eyes glimmer with interest. “I’ve learned even more, though, watching you two play.”

Kageyama blinks. “I haven’t seen you at any of our games.”

Hinata laughs, and bumps Kozume with his hip. “Kenma watches them streamed on his tv!”

Kozume rolls his eyes but Kageyama detects amusement in the line of his lips. “I hate the beach. Too sunny, and always so hot.”

Kageyama looks out the floor-to-ceiling windows, which open up onto the wide expanse of the beach.

Kozume follows his gaze and smirks. “I like looking at the beach, I just don’t like stepping in the sand.” He focuses his eyes on Kageyama. “Something tells me the opposite is true for you.

Kageyama’s brows furrow. “You act like Hinata’s friend but... he told me this was a business meeting.”

“It is.” All at once, Kozume slips into the aura of a cat stalking its prey. “I wanted to see you in person before making any offers.”

“Offer?” Kageyama spaces out a bit. If he’s connecting the dots correctly, then—

“I’m Hinata’s sponsor. Bouncing Ball is my company, and I only invest in the most… interesting things.” He turns to Hinata, gesturing to him with a flick of his thumb. “You make Hinata’s play more fascinating. I want to make sure you get to play with each other for a long time.”

“Kenma!” Hinata blushes but Kageyama feels like he should be the one doing that. He’s too shocked to do so, though.

“Are you serious?!”

“Yes.” Kozume’s grin turns sharp and calculating. “But if you ever stop being interesting, I’ll stop sponsoring.”

Kageyama thinks about how much fun he has playing with Hinata, how good he’s gotten in the sand, how they plan to take on the world together, and— “With him, I’ll always be interesting.”

Hinata turns an even darker red and Kozume laughs, a bright and delighted sound. “Let’s review some paperwork later, then?”

Kageyama nods his head. Hinata punches Kozume in the side, and starts chatting with him in a teasing manner. Kageyama listens for a bit, before drifting towards the windows that open onto the beach.

The sky is a beautiful blue, reflecting the happiness growing deep within him.

He has a sponsorship. He’ll be able to stay with beach volleyball. With Hinata.

His stomach squirms pleasantly.

“Kageyama?”

He turns towards Kozume, who is walking towards him and the windows Kageyama stands in front of. He looks down at the water.

“Are you happy?” Kozume asks.

“More than ever,” he answers, honestly.

Kozume’s eyebrows twitch. “Do you have everything you want?”

Kageyama is tempted to answer that yes, he is perfectly happy and content, but something stops him short.

Everything is great, except…

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that if you want something, you should try with all your strength to get it,” Kozume tilts his head to the side. “Going after what you want is an opportunity that shouldn’t be thrown away.”

Kozume’s eyes crinkle coyly, and Kageyama thinks he looks a little bit like a self-satisfied cat. He’s not sure how he feels about it.

His words follow Kageyama, past the reaches of the villa, past the contracts they sign, and past the afternoon sun, until they echo in his ears as he tucks into bed that night.

* * *

Their first official tournament under the dual sponsorship of Kodzuken is on one of the brightest days of the year. It’s a nice temperature, warm, but not blazing. The sky is clear and the sun shines happily down. Hinata reminds Kageyama to wear sunscreen and he simply shakes his head as Hinata forces lotion onto his cheeks.

All throughout the day, Kageyama repeats a mantra to himself:

_If we win this game, I’ll ask him out._

And they do, they win their games, one after the next, but still, Kageyama doesn’t say the words to Hinata. He’s not worried about the rejection harming their professional relationship, as they have far too much chemistry to end their partnership; what he does worry about is their friendship.

Would Hinata still want to hang out with him on their off days when he knew how Kageyama felt? Would he still share ice cream or laugh at his attempts at humor or smile at him when he’s happy to just be with Kageyama?

Hinata was his guide in the world, and Kageyama never wanted to step into a time when they weren’t best friends.

Kageyama’s shifiness must have been apparent, as Hinata keeps sending him weird, assessing looks throughout the day. When it seems like he’s going to finally ask what’s going on, Kageyama distracts him by offering him water to drink or asking a question about their next opponents. If Hinata realizes what Kageyama is doing, he doesn’t say anything, just taking the offer for what it was.

Day one passes with their wins. And Kageyama changes his mantra:

_If we win this tournament, I’ll ask him out._

It’s under the setting sun that Kageyama sits on the beach, watching the deepening sky and stressing over how he will say the words that have been on his mind, ever since so long ago when he first blurted a request to play a game with a stranger on the beach.

Of course, the object of all his thoughts can never leave him alone to brood, because he sits down next to Kageyama on the sand, their thighs touching through their tournament apparel.

Kageyama doesn’t shift away.

They sit in silence, and Kageyama is waiting. For what, he doesn’t know. The sun sinks lower and still, he waits.

“You know,” Hinata says, breaking their silence. “One of my favorite partners once did something really stupid.”

Kageyama’s chest tightens. The breeze blows his fringe into his eyes. “What did they do?”

Hinata chuckles.“He made a long-term desire based on the wind and sand.” He pauses. “He relied on chance when he should’ve relied on his heart.”

“What do you mean?” Kageyama says, his chest tightening.

“He told me he would only ask his girlfriend to marry him if we won our tournament,” Hinata says. “I thought it was romantic, but I learned from that time.”

The breeze is the only thingKageyama can hear over his pounding heart. “Did you win?”

“We lost.” He turns to Kageyama, his dark eyes reflecting the sinking lights falling in the sky. “And his girlfriend asked him to marry him, because it didn’t matter if he won or lost. She still wanted to be with him.”

Kageyama inhales sharply. He considers whether his partnership, his friendship with Hinata would ever end just because of his unnecessary feelings. He exhales, steels himself andfinally asks:

“Do you want to—-”

“Yes.”

Kageyama blinks. “I didn’t even finish what I was going to say.”

“You were going to finally ask me out, right?” Hinata’s eyes glimmer with mirth, shining prettily in the setting sun. “It took you long enough.”

Kageyama bristles at this. “How was I supposed to know you wanted me to ask you?”

“I’ve only been dropping hints for months.” Hinata laughs and leans back in the sand. “Also, you should know, you were mumbling your thoughts all day. I caught you saying ‘I’ll ask him out if we win’ about thirty times.”

“Hinata!”

Hinata cackles and continues to tease. “I’m sure you scared a lot of the other competitors, mumbling Japanese with that much intense focus.”

Kageyama can’t bear to hear it anymore. He launches himself at Hinata and slams his hands over his mouth. Hinata’s warm breath tickles Kageyama’s palm as he laughs, and Kageyama feels his own lips twitch upward.

As Kageyama shifts his weight to gain purchase in the sand, he realizes his thighs are pinning Hinata to the ground. But instead of moving, he simply takes his hands off Hinata’s mouth and places them around his head.

Hinata inhales, and he looks up at Kageyama with bright, questioning eyes. Kageyama doesn’t need any more of a hint than that. He leans down and captures his lips with his own.

The sun dips below the horizon and Kageyama knows: nothing will get more perfect than this.

* * *

_**Brazillian Multinational Team Taking Beach by Storm!!** _

Hinata Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio are favored picks for team bids in beach volleyball; though nothing is official, they could represent Brazil in the next Olympics. But who are these young players, and how did they end up together in Brazil? Kageyama, until a few years ago, was a resident of Japan; but fate drew him across the globe, to where his partner Hinata waited. They claim it started, as most things do, with a chance meeting…

_[Read more here!]_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I really loved writing this fic!!!! <3
> 
> twitter: [@majesticdeku](https://twitter.com/majesticdeku)


End file.
